Attempt to begin writing a short story, take 1.
I dipped into a dim alley and quickly removed my “I voted” sticker, delicately placing it in a trash can under what I eventually realized was a condom wrapper. The horror and disgust faded into a muted sense of amusement at the cynical juxtaposition of voting and fucking. Or, to put it more crudely, and accurately, getting fucked.
